The Lost Son: Bloodfall
by DrakeStrider
Summary: In Tamriel's history many wars have been waged, many battles fought. All have we heard of these legendary conflicts, but the ones we haven't heard of are the ones waged in the shadows. This is the story of one such battle, a tale of great loss and sorrow. A burning desire for vengeance. And a legacy coated in Blood.


The waters of the Niben glistened in the moonlight, as night fell over cyrodiil. Tiny waves struck the shores of Bravil, it´s ambience creating a soothing atmosphere. These thoughts ran through the mind of one of the city guards as he gazed upon the darkened horizon. His partner however had other things on his mind.

"Aw hell, I´m about as dry as a fish on the skewer!" He remarked. "What say we get a few mugs from the inn eh?" The guard laughed and patted the other one roughly on the shoulder, who did not seem to enjoy it. "I´ll pass Beck…and we´re not supposed to be drinking on the job…" He replied coldly. "Hah! Well you´re alone on that one lad, you seriously think none of us don´t slip in a sip every now and then?" Beck laughed again and gave the younger guard another slap on the shoulder. Forcing a smile through gritted teeth the younger one said, "Well you´re certainly happy for this time…what with the war and all…" Voice dripping with condescendence. "And you´re certainly uptight for guard duty! Listen to me lad, there ain´t no chance them elves be making their way to this little shanty hole. Just as there´s no chance of any serious trouble happenin´tonight. You can wage your arse on that!" With that said the guard Beck went behind the gates and back into the city to get his drinks, and knowing that lout he most likely wouldn´t be back for the night.

Though the chances were little, his partner Kelin prayed to Mara that he´d get fired for ignoring his duties yet again. Even in a slum like Bravil a guard shouldn´t be able to just waltz off like that in his quest for ale!

Either way Kelin was happy to be rid of his "company". He took in the serenity that surrounded him, breathing in the cold night air. And just as he was sure that everything was perfect…

*CRAW*

A loud nasty sound came from above him. Kelin looked up, quite startled by the noise. On Bravil´s crest a large raven loomed over him, piercing him with it´s empty eyes.

A man raised by nobles or people of education would´ve dismissed a crow as nothing of relevance. But Kelin was a fisherman´s son, and a superstitious one at that.

A certain fear gripped Kelin´s heart, as he felt convinced this could only bode ill. Then…almost like it knew what he was thinking the raven flew directly over Kelin´s head, causing him to shout in fear.

And then it just flew off into the dark, as quickly as it came. Kelin shook his head in confusion, feeling a bit sheepish for that act of cowardice. But he could still feel that aura of dread, a sense of doom coming from that heinous looking bird.

And he might´ve been a little soon to dismiss it…

Kelin picked up his helmet which he´d dropped in his fright, dusting off a bit of dirt. Quickly he put it back on as to regain his confidence. And just as he did he could hear something in the distance…

Out of instinct he gripped the handle of his sword, feeling a bit paranoid after that raven. He soon found out though that it was the sound of a traveler, as the clattering of horse hooves was unmistakable.

Sheathing his sword and breathing a sigh of relief the young guard prepared to greet the late traveler. Soon he could see the image of a horse becoming clearer in the darkness, although it´s rider seemed a bit slumped in the saddle. Poor man must´ve been exhausted as by now it was far passed midnight.

As the horse approached it´s neighing sounded more and more distressed for some reason, however after roaming in the dark for so long that was hardly unusual. And besides it´s rider was doing a rather poor job of maneuvering it, but then again he did seem quite worn out.

By the time the horse at last made it to the gates Kelin knew something was amiss. The horse didn´t look so much distressed as much as it was downright terrified, it neighed and spun about like a goblin with rattles.

But before Kelin could make any attempts to calm the beast down, it´s rider fell clean off and the horse galloped back into the darkness. Almost like it had just been aching to get that nuisance off it´s back.

Kelin who was quite dazed by what had just happened went over to help the man up on his feet. Who for some reason even after being shaken off by a horse still didn´t move a muscle.

"Excuse me…milord?" The young guard shook the traveler gently, but no response. And only then did he notice something horrific. From the man´s back a long, strange dagger was embedded. Blood pouring slowly from it´s base.

Kelin who had never even laid eyes upon a corpse, was horrorstruck. But before a reaction formed in his mind the dead man spoke. "Wait…don´t go…" Thank the divines, he was alive. Kelin hurried back to the old man. He turned him over gently as he was lying on his stomach, making sure not to touch the dagger. Suddenly the man gripped Kelin´s shirt tightly and started speaking in hushed tones, "L-Listen to me. I need you to call for help a-and ask for steward Helrist…" The man spoke quickly and weakly as every word seemed to hasten his demise. "Helrist? B-But sir there is no steward by that na-"

"GODS DAMN IT BOY! DO AS I SAY!" The man yelled, the pain in his voice quite evident. Seeing no other option the young guard shouted for help.

_Some hours later…_

Deep in the undercroft of Castle Bravil loud footsteps could be heard, echoing in it´s catacombs. A rare occurrence as that particular area was meant as a place of sanctity, a place for priests and clerics but not men of war. As this man´s bearing suggested.

Moving as quickly as he could without running, this was clearly someone of royalty. He bore a long red cape, laced with his steel armor, with the gauntlets and boots to match. The armor was forged with imperial technique which was strange as he didn´t seem to represent the empire. His features were quite chiseled, definitely a man most would consider handsome. However a long scar crossed his forehead and right eye, in which he was blind. In addition to an already frightening visage the man also had a neatly trimmed ducktail beard, which added to his imposing figure.

After a few good minutes of walking through the many hallways the man found his way to a set of doors located at the back of the last corridor. From his pocket he drew a strange looking key, with which he unlocked the door.

Making his way in with haste the man shut the door behind him firmly before looking at what lay before him.

A large healing table adorned with all sorts of salves, potions and elixirs. Not to mention a number of healing scrolls. On the healing table an old man lay, he was shirtless with a thick set of bandages on his back. Alongside him two women were counting the potions and looking at a variety of recipes.

Upon seeing the royal man the two seemed quite startled. Both of them were dressed in robes as was befitting to a healer and both were put off by the man´s presence here. Suddenly the older one pulled the other aside and whispered something to her, the younger one didn´t seem too happy with whatever she was saying but was eventually swayed and left the healing chamber.

"I see you have been busy…" The royal said and removed his gauntlets, his voice tinged with venom. "Yes…quite…" The healer turned back to face her patient with the royal watching closely. "His wounds are quite severe…I don´t think in all my healing years that I´ve ever come across a knife wound like this…" The woman seemed terribly weary, as the bags under her eyes could tell.

"And what exactly was the cause?" The royal asked in a cold manner. "Well a weapon quite obviously…but one I´ve never seen, and apparently neither has Agmund…" The woman replied. "Who?" The royal´s eyes narrowed. "The local guildmaster…supposed to be an expert on weapons and deadly craft but he said he´d never seen it´s like, even asked if he could keep it." As she spoke the woman started searching the cases for something. "The blade was also poisoned somehow…" She said and returned with a book. "Somehow?" The royal asked impatient. "Aye another damn mystery. Whoever did this knew what he was doing, that´s for sure…" The woman flipped a few pages in the book before putting it down.

"Can I see this weapon?" The royal asked with an outstretched hand. "I´m sorry but he insisted to show you himself…" The woman pointed to the old man on the table. The royal didn´t attempt to hide his irritation.

"And what if he doesn´t wake up?" He asked harshly.

"Oh he will…but his chances of survival are low, I managed to heal the outside wound but he´s bleeding internally and the poison sinks deeper into him as we speak. I don´t know how long I´ll be able to keep him up." The woman sent a few drops of elixir down the man´s throat before turning to face her guest.

"Do what you can to make him talk, then get out of here…" The royal spat.

"I already have…duke…" The woman said in an equally rude manner, before leaving him alone with the old man. Just as the doors shut behind her the man started coughing, signaling that he was awake.

Noticing this, the duke sat down in a chair placed by the man´s side.

"Welcome back Koren…" He said and grinned wickedly. The old man barely seemed to register his presence. "It´s been too long…"

Koren opened and closed his mouth several times in a desperate attempt to speak. The duke didn´t assist, just waited for him to summon what little strength he had left. After many tries a small muted sound emerged from Koren´s throat. The duke realized this, and approached him further to hear him. "What´s that? Speak louder damn it!" He yelled in annoyance. Summoning all the breath he had left, the old man spoke in his loudest volume.

"He´s coming for you…"

The duke looked at him puzzled, like what he was saying made no sense.

"And our master…"

He bent down so his face met Koren´s.

"What are you rambling about? Who´s coming for us!?" The duke yelled in frustration. The old man seemed to reach for something by his left side.

"Don´t you tell me…" He said and drew forth a metal object.

"That you don´t remember…"

From Koren´s weathered hand the duke took an outlandish weapon. A dagger the size of short broadsword, it bore the resemblance of a traditional redguard blade but was obviously not inspired by it.

Made from what he guessed was pure ebony, engraved with various markings depicting war and carnage. And last but not least, the edge looked sharp enough to cleave through the bones of a giant.

And only by holding it did the duke feel a seething aura of hate emanating from it. And yes…he did remember…

_The fire…_

_The bloodshed…_

_The screams…_

He remembered it all…

Looking at the blade in his hands, the duke summoned what courage he could find and threw the blade to the ground. As it hit the floor a thundering sound echoed through the room.

"**Bah! Let him come, let the monster come! We´ll be ready for him…so help me we will! If I have to climb the remains of Red Mountain I will not be put down by the slimy spawn of Greenglade!"**

The duke´s eyes practically flared with rage but as he stormed out he was interrupted.

"There´s no way out of this Arzen…not this time…" Koren´s words echoed a warning.

"I´ve seen what he can do…I am a witness to it…" Koren turned his head towards Arzen the duke.

"You can´t stop him…" Though it may have been for but a brief moment, Koren saw the fear in Arzen´s eyes. The fear of being wrong, as being right…meant everything in his position.

But that fear was quickly replaced with malice, in an act of retaliation a searing fireball emerged in Arzen´s outstretched hand. And with a blazing flash…Koren…was little more than a pile of cinders.

"I´ll stop the world if I choose to…"

* * *

And that´s the first chapter of Bloodfall I hope you enjoyed and furthermore hope you remain to see more of it.

(P.S. This is the prologue, as the story goes on it´ll start to make sense)


End file.
